Picking Up the Pieces
by The Youngest Rider
Summary: He slowly moved his left hand up her arm, finding her hair. He brushed it back over her shoulder, then softly wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. It's going to be okay. I promise. [Doyle x Nadia]
1. Chapter 1

**So I've been keeping up with the Nadia x Doyle fics, and I thought I'd add one of my own. I'm still pretty new to this, so bear with me.**

**Like some of the rest of you, I was a little disappointed by the way we left these two hanging, so this is my answer to that. By the way, Remembrance Lane and Jesus.Lives are totally my inspiration. You guys rock, keep the good stuff coming!**

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the 24 characters, so please don't sue me. I'm a poor college student, I don't have anything anyway  


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She watched Morris and Chloe leave hand in hand. They were the last of the main techs to leave. Staff had been trickling out of CTU headquarters for the last hour, wrapping up minor details and filling out the last of the day's reports. The last of the stragglers were just finishing up now, a new wave of fresh staff were coming in to take their place. A cleanup crew was busy working off to the side, removing any debris left over from the Chinese attack. Two of them were busy cleaning up the blood stain on the floor from where Milo had lain just hours before. That sight brought a flood of memories to Nadia Yassir. She pushed them all back, swallowing the lump in her throat. She didn't have the time or the energy to deal with that now. All she wanted was to go home and crawl into her nice warm bed and sleep for a month. Still, she lingered on the main floor of CTU, looking around at the almost empty room. She wanted to go home, but something was keeping her rooted to that spot.

She looked over toward the hall that led to the infirmary. She knew he was still down there, resting. Dr. Bridger had been brought in for the new shift and had begun working on him right away as soon as he had been brought in from the beach. She remembered watching as they wheeled him in on that stretcher. His face was bandaged around his eyes, but he offered no sound of protest. She knew he was very awake, but he had said nothing as they took him down the hall. A twinge of guilt crept into the back of her mind. She hadn't even gone to see him yet. She couldn't. It was her fault that he was there. She should have listened to Karen. She knew that Jack was right about his father. Doyle knew it too. But instead she followed the orders of the administration and look where it got them. They had nearly lost the boy and the component and now Mike was…her thoughts trailed off as she looked down the hall again. Squaring her shoulders, she began walking toward the infirmary. The hall seemed longer than usual, and it seemed to be forever before she stood outside those doors. She swiped in, and immediately saw Doyle on a recovery bed through the glass doors. Dr. Bridger caught her eye and entered the room, leaving Doyle alone. Nadia tore her eyes off his still form to meet the doctor's gaze.

"How is he?"

"It's a little too soon to tell the full extent of the damage. His right eye is completely blind; the shrapnel severed the major nerves. His left eye is a little better, and there is a chance that he might regain sight in it. Again, it's too soon to tell. He will be flown to L.A. Memorial as soon as he's feeling a little more stable."

"How long will it be before he can be moved?"

"He could be moved now, but there is no rush. Besides his eyes, there is nothing wrong with him. I've been letting him rest for a while. The hospital will have to wait until he's more healed before they can do any work on him anyway. Eye injuries are like that, it's best to hold off for a while before they attempt any corrective surgery."

"I see. Is it okay if I see him?"

"That would be fine. I'm sure he'd appreciate that. I've been the only person he's talked to since he got here."

Nadia felt another stab of guilt. She should have come earlier. She owed him that much. She looked back at Bridger, swallowing hard.

"Thank you, Doctor."

He smiled at her kindly, then moved into his office to fill out some medical reports. Nadia slowly approached the doors, taking a deep breath before she heavily pushed them open. She slowly made her way to the bed, trying to be quiet just in case he was sleeping. He cocked his head a little as she approached, no doubt aware of the fact that it was not the doctor who had just walked in. She approached the edge of his bed, still unable to make a sound. She was racking her brain for the something to say, but nothing she thought of seemed right. He surprised her by speaking first.

"I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

His voice was a little raspy from the drugs, but his tone was even. He didn't seem to bear her any ill will. Not that it mattered; she bore enough against herself for the both of them.

"How'd you know it was me?" she asked, her voice coming out almost in a whisper.

"I smelled ya," he said matter-of-factly, sniffing for effect.

She almost laughed, but then realized he wasn't joking. She felt awkward standing over him, even though he couldn't see her. She abruptly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. He turned to her a little more, but she couldn't tell if he was surprised or agitated. The bandages hid most of his expressions. He hadn't tightened his lips though, a gesture Nadia had come to associate with exasperation, so maybe he didn't mind.

"Mike…"she began uncertainly, her voice shaking audibly.

"Nadia, it's okay. Don't feel like you have to make yourself uncomfortable. What's done is done."

"But it's not done," she faltered again. "What happened today has lasting consequences."

"Do you think I don't know that?" His voice was not harsh, but it had a hint of resignation in it.

Nadia sighed aloud. "I just…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

The surprised look on his face was visible this time. "Sorry for what?"

"What happened was my fault. I should have listened to you and Jack and Karen. They were right about Phillip Bauer. I was so afraid of what the supervisor from Division might do that I ignored my instincts and everyone else's and just did it by the book. And look what that accomplished. We almost lost everything. Now Jack is missing and you're…"she stopped suddenly, unable to finish the sentence.

She looked down at him, expecting to see anger on his features. His face instead looked thoughtful.

"Do you always do that?" he asked suddenly.

"Do what?"

"Blame yourself for everything that happens. Were the nuclear attacks yesterday your fault too?"

Nadia looked at him, stunned. He didn't blame her at all for what happened.

"Nadia, what happened to me is not your fault. I was following orders too. I knew the risks when I took this job, just like I knew the risks when I became an agent in the first place. You had no way of knowing the false component was rigged to blow any more than I did. This," he jerked a thumb toward his face, "was not your fault. _Milo _was not your fault." He stopped abruptly; he hadn't meant to say that. Mentally kicking himself for bringing that up, he waiting, trying to read her reaction without his sight.

Nadia was silent for a long time. The dam of emotions that she had been holding at bay finally broke. She felt the tears stinging her eyes and she fought them back for all she was worth. For some reason, she didn't want to cry in front of Mike. And yet another part of her wanted nothing more than to hold onto him for all she was worth. Finally, she drew a deep breath, sniffing loudly.

_Crap, I made her cry. Good job, Mike._

"Yes it was," she choked out finally.

He reached carefully for where he thought her hand was. He found it unerringly, and closed his fingers around hers. He brushed his thumb over the top of her hand, doing his best to sooth her. Something warm and wet dripped onto the back of his hand. He shifted forward slowly, finally working himself into a sitting position. Nadia shifted on the bed next to him.

"Mike, you need to lie down…"she said, her voice even more haggard than before.

"I'm fine," he said firmly.

He slowly moved his left hand up her arm, finding her hair. He brushed it back over her shoulder, then softly wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. She reached up, holding his hand to her cheek.

"It's going to be okay. I promise," he said quietly. "Come here."

She allowed him to draw her close, burying her face in his shoulder. Her small arms wrapped around his back, seemingly clutching him for dear life. He felt a sob rack her body and he held her a little tighter, stroking her hair gently. Suddenly, the pain he had felt earlier disappeared; all his attention was on stopping the tears he had inadvertently caused. He rubbed her back, whispering nothings in her ear until she finally stopped shaking. Her breathing slowed and became more regular. For a moment, he almost thought she had fallen asleep. She nuzzled her face a little deeper into the crook of his neck and he tightened his hold on her a little more. He did not want to let her go. He almost chuckled when he thought of the fact that about 24 hours ago, he had her in an interrogation cell. He remembered tightening his grip around her throat when she refused to give him the answers that he wanted. He shuddered at that memory. In just a few short hours, the person who he was so sure was working for terrorists was wrapped in his arms, seeking comfort from him. And he wanted nothing more in the world than to give it to her.

He usually wasn't the type to fall for someone quickly. He was never impulsive about emotions; in fact, he didn't have much use for them. They only got in the way. His job had hardened him. He was used to people not understanding him and what he did. He was used to being alone, and only looking out for himself and his teams. But in a very short amount of time, he found himself caring for someone much deeper than he would have though possible for the amount of time he'd known her. Nadia was beautiful to be sure, but that was not what attracted him to her. She had a strong and confident demeanor, and yet he knew that she was far more unsure of herself than she let on. She hid her emotions well, and never let others see the weakness beneath her cool façade. Except for him. Earlier yesterday, when she told him that Milo had been killed, he asked if she was alright. She looked at him, her eyes pleading with him, and said 'no'. The look on her face broke his heart. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and love all the pain away right then and there. But time was short and he and Jack had a mission. He leaned his head against hers; he would make up for abandoning her before. She stirred a little in his arms, and he turned his head to kiss her hair softly.

Nadia relished the feeling of Mike's strong arms around her. She had felt so guilty over what happened to Milo, even after Morris had assured her it was not her fault. Earlier before Mike had left, she knew that he had wanted to hug her. She _wanted _him to hug her. She needed him more than ever at that point. Earlier, he had terrified her when he had interrogated her. In a matter of a few hours, she had gone from fearing him to seeking his opinion and his comfort. And then, she had sent him on a mission than cost him his eyesight and his career, just like that. She had failed to save Milo, just as she had failed to protect Mike. They were her responsibility, and she blew it.

But here Mike was, comforting _her _after she had sent him on that mission. He didn't blame her. All he wanted to do was to be there for her. She nuzzled a little closer to him and felt his grip tighten a little. He kept on whispering to her that it was okay and that he was there for her. He was kneading her back slowly, working out all the tension that had built up. The guilt that had threatened to overwhelm her slowly ebbed away with his ministrations. She breathed in his scent deeply; it was salty with a hint of something she could only identify as Old Spice. This felt really…nice. She didn't want this moment to end. She could feel all the stress and emotions that had been building up slowly dissipate as Mike continued to hold her close. She tightened her grip on his shirt, and he turned to kiss her hair. She felt it all too keenly.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they finally pulled away from each other. Neither of them really knew what to say to the other. Each knew that the other had been doing a lot of recapping during the last few minutes. A tapping at the glass saved them both from having to think up something to say. Nadia looked over to see Dr. Bridger with a paper in his hand motioning for her to join him. She thought he had a slightly embarrassed look on his face, and she wondered how long he had been standing there.

She looked at Mike sheepishly, though he could not see it.

"Well, Dr. Bridger wants me."

_I want you. _"Yeah," he said instead.

"Mike..." her voice trailed off.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you…for everything."

He reached down and squeezed her hand, turning as if to look at her.

"Anytime. Listen, if you ever need to talk about anything, you know my number."

She looked down at her hand in his. She had hoped to come and visit him in the hospital, but that might be a little presumptuous.

"Yeah," she said, a little more disappointment in her voice than she had intended.

As if reading her thoughts he said, "You can come visit me too. If you want to," he hastily added.

Her eyes snapped up to look at him.

"Yeah, I'll definitely do that."

His sigh sounded almost relieved. He paused for a moment, as if deep in thought, searching for the right words to say to her.

"Maybe we'll be able to help each other out. You know…pick up the pieces."

"Together," she added.

"Yeah, together," he confirmed, the barest of smiles touching his lips. "You better go see what Doc wants."

"Yeah. I'll see you soon, Mike."

There was determination behind that statement, and Mike did not doubt its truth. His smile widened as she rose to leave.

"I'll be waiting."

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**If you guys liked what you read, I might be persuaded to write a little more. I had some more ideas for these two, but I want to make sure you like what was there so far. So keep the reviews coming guys!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay peeps, here it is. Chapter 2! Your reviews have been absolutely amazing, you have no idea how much I appreciate the encouragement. Keep up the feedback and let me know if I'm messing up or getting anyone too OOC. Thanks again guys!**

Mike stirred, fighting the urge to open his eyes. It wouldn't do him any good anyway, he reminded himself. He could feel the warm rays of sunshine pouring through the window on his face, confirming the arrival of morning. He stretched out, kicking the hot covers off his legs. The smells of the surgical recovery floor of L.A. Memorial wafted in through the open door, making him wrinkle his nose. He had been there for only two days, and he felt like he was losing his mind already.

_Oh well, at least I get the room to myself._

"Good mornin', Mr. Doyle."

The robust voice of one of the nurses broke through his thoughts. _How on earth could she be so perky this early in the morning? _He recognized her voice as Hannah, one of the older nurses on the floor. She was a bustling woman and she didn't take crap from any of the other young nurses that worked alongside her. But she liked him and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. She placed an undoubtedly soggy breakfast on his tray. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of it…_eggs again, yum. _He heard her grab his water bottle and make her way to the adjoined bathroom to fill it up again, humming an old hymn as she went.

"I'm fine, Hannah," he said groggily. It really was way too early to be that cheerful. She floated back into the room, placing his water back on the tray next to his bed. She paused for a minute to take in the condition of his sheets. He could almost see her hands going to her hips; he braced himself for his scolding. He didn't have to wait long.

"Really, Mr. Doyle, is it absolutely necessary to kick your blankets all the way off your bed every morning? It just means that I'm going to have to replace your laundry…again." Her statement was exasperated, but her tone held a note of amusement.

"Oh c'mon Hannah, who do ya think you're fooling? You're just going to get one of your underlings to replace it for you. We both know you won't even have to lift a finger."

He heard her inhale as if to retort, but she must have thought better of it. He smirked at his small victory. They had been cultivating a teasing relationship for the past two days, and although he really hated being there, Hannah did make it a little easier for him to cope.

"Well, if there's anything else you be needin', you go ahead and ask for me."

"I will, I promise."

"Okay, I'll seeya later, hun."

He couldn't help but smile at the adage. Alone again, he contemplated on what could occupy his time for the next few hours. He continued to rack his brain for something to do as he made a quick trip to his personal bathroom. _I'm getting to know my way around here pretty good for it only being two days_, he mused as he flushed the toilet. Feeling his way back to his bed, he grabbed the remote off his little side tray, careful not to tip over his water. He had dropped it yesterday and it had been a pain in the butt to find again. He turned on the TV, turning the channel to Fox News.

"Fair and balanced," he said to himself, as he caught today's report. He half listened to Shepherd Smith listing the new casualty reports of the nuclear fallout in L.A. as he checked his cell phone for voicemail. Memorizing the buttons had not been hard, he had them pretty much down before he lost his eyesight. He punched in his password at the prompt, and was mildly surprised to find that he did have one new message. He muted the TV, intent on the recording. It was Nadia. She apologized for not coming to the hospital earlier…_Good grief, it's only been two days, what do you think I expected?_ She went on to tell him that she wanted to visit him that afternoon around lunchtime, if that was okay with him. _Is that a rhetorical question? _He thought sarcastically, a grin spreading across his face.

He punched the memorized button, congratulating himself for adding her to the speed dial list before his accident. It made things a little easier. He waited patiently for her to answer, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he was holding when she did.

"Hey," was her quiet greeting.

"Hi. I got your message. Lunch would be great."

_Did he sound excited? _Nadia wondered from her end of the line. _That was weird. _Excitement was the last thing she expected to hear from him. He had just lost his eyesight and she'd ignored him for the last two days…what did he have to be happy about?

"Good. I'll come by at noon then?"

"Yeah."

"How are you?" she asked suddenly.

"I'm fine. The hospital pretty much sucks, but other than that I'm doing well."

"How have they treated you?" she asked, her voice taking a new edge.

"Oh the care has been fine. I just hate being stuck here, that's all."

"Oh. Well, I'll there in a little over an hour."

"Okay, seeya then."

He smiled as he closed his cell and placed it on the table. _She always has to rescue someone. _He stretched, wondering briefly what he looked like, then thought better to worry about what he smelled like. _Time for a shower, Mike. This could be interesting. _He had not ventured into the shower yet, and pride would not allow him to let Hannah help him. _No way. _He carefully got off his bed, once again making his way to his bathroom. He felt around for the toiletry items, finding one bottle of something that he supposed was a shampoo/conditioner. He also found a bar of soap and a washrag, with a towel draped across the door. _Okay, here goes nothing. _He figured out the hot/cold handles, which would have been hard enough had he been able to see. After slightly scalding his forearm, he found the temperature he liked and stepped in. He managed to wash his hair and body without getting the front of his bandages too wet, hoping that Hannah would come in to change the dressing before Nadia showed up.

Finally finishing, he dried himself and dressed quickly. Once back in bed, he turned the TV back on so he could catch the time. He guessed it was about 11:30. The reporter confirmed that it was in fact 11:32.

"Yep, I still got it," he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"I hope it ain't contagious," Hannah's familiar voice came from the door.

_Good, she did make it in before Nadia. _

"Hey, just the woman I wanted to…hear," he said, the cocky smirk never leaving his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I get that all the time," she replied good-naturedly. "Well, Mr. Doyle…you didn't even eat your breakfast."

"Hannah, don't get me wrong. I love the service here and all, but I'm here to recover from being blown up, not get poisoned to death by whatever it is you feed me in this place."

"Well, it'll be a slow recovery indeed if ya don't start eatin' your meals."

"Okay, point taken. Are you going to change my dressing or what?"

"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on, I'm comin'." He could hear her opening her kit and tearing open packages of sterile gauze. She leaned over him on the bed, starting to undo the dressing.

"Did you take a shower, hun?" she asked; the surprise evident in her voice.

"Yeah. Aren't you proud of me? I did it all by myself."

"Well, good for you. Just be thankful you didn't slip and break your neck."

"Yes mom…" he replied, smiling at her concern. He really did like this woman, even for all her fretting.

She finished undoing the wrapping, and gently peeled the gauze off his eyes. It didn't hurt this time, which must mean that the oozing business had stopped. That was good, because frankly, he getting tired of that tugging sensation every time they changed his dressing.

"Hmm, you're looking real good today. We can do away with the bandages altogether in a few more days, looks like."

"Yay," he said dryly.

She finger combed his still wet hair, brushing it off his forehead.

"Hey, I like it brushed down," he protested.

"You look like an eighties reject with it like that, now stop fussin'."

He grudgingly let her arrange his hair the way she liked; then held still as she started wrapping again. She finished redressing his eyes, and stepped back to admire her work.

"Hannah?" he began carefully.

"Yeah honey?"

He smirked, "How does the room look?"

"Why, you expected some cute little thing to visit ya today?"

_Ouch. She was good. _His hesitation was all she needed.

"Uh huh. You are, aren't ya?"

"Maybe," was all he would admit.

She chuckled softly, putting a reassuring hand on his arm. "Don't you worry none. The room looks fine. I'm sure whoever-she-is will not be disappointed in your impeccable neatness. Ya need anything else, sweetie?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Okay, well your lunch is on the tray."

"Thanks, I can smell it from here," he said, distaste evident in his voice.

"You be a good boy and eat up now. I'll check in on ya later."

"Bye Hannah."

_Yay, alone with my…lunch. What do we have here? _He sniffed tentatively. _Is that supposed to be egg salad? Ugh, nasty. Okay, skipping lunch as well. _His stomach growled a negative.

"Oh shut up," he scolded it.

"Talk to yourself much, Mike?"

Now _that _was the voice he wanted to hear. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his features.

"What can I say? I have a penchant for intelligent conversation," he quipped.

Her soft laugh filled the air as she walked into his room. A familiar scent followed her as she approached his bed. _No, couldn't be. She didn't. Oh my God, she did. _

"Nadia? Is that what I think it is?"

"Is what 'what you think it is'?" She asked coyly, sitting on the bed next to him.

He could almost see the seductive smile on her lips as she said it. He sniffed again to confirm his suspicions. There was no doubt about it now. This woman was amazing.

"Nadia, will you marry me?" he asked with a totally straight face, well, the part that was visible anyway.

She laughed again. "If bringing you a Whopper is all it takes to get a proposal, I'd love to see what I'd get for bringing you something really good."

A myriad of images and ideas popped into Mike's head. He beat them back with a mental baseball bat and focused on her again…and his Whopper.

"Yeah well, have you seen the food around here?" he asked, inclining his head toward the tray beside them.

"Holy crap. Is that egg salad?"

"I think it's supposed to be. Now do you know why I was telling my stomach to shut up? I haven't eaten a decent meal in two days."

"Hmm, well now you have one."

He heard her pull the precious commodity out of the bag and unwrap it from its paper prison, releasing its enticing scent even more. His mouth watered profusely, and he licked his lips in anticipation. This was going to be a nice visit. He was already feeling immensely better than he had this morning. He could hear her arranging his meal on his tray, pulling it closer so that the arm swung over the bed between them.

'Here's your lunch," she said simply, her sweeping gesture going unnoticed.

Mike sat up, drawing himself into a cross-legged position. Nadia shifted across from him and he suspected she was mirroring his pose. He felt a small hand grasp his fingers and place the half-wrapped burger in his hand. He paused before taking a bite.

"Nadia? In all seriousness, thank you. This was really…thoughtful of you," he said earnestly.

She sent an unseen smile his way. "Mike, it's the least I could do. I really am sorry for not coming sooner. I meant to, but the day after I left CTU, I pretty much slept all day. Then I spent most of yesterday trying to get my apartment back together. I know I should have visited you earlier…"

"Nadia," he interrupted. "It's okay. Actually, the last couple of days haven't been too bad. I've been getting to know the room pretty well, so I can get around fine. And some of the staff here are really nice."

"That's good. It takes the edge off some of the guilt," she said bluntly.

"You have got to stop that. Enough with the self-inflicted guilt trips, seriously. Just relax a bit, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Good, now shut up so I can enjoy this burger," he said, grinning at her before taking a big bite.

Nadia obediently remained quiet while he wolfed down his meal. She had never seen anyone down a cheeseburger that fast. He was just starting on his fries when she ventured to speak again.

"Milo's brother called me today," she began carefully.

He stopped munching and raised his head to her, indicating he was listening.

"He said that his wake would be on Saturday, and the funeral Monday morning. He asked me to say something at the funeral." She stopped, feeling her throat constricting again.

"Are you going to?" Mike asked intently.

She paused and took a deep breath before answering. "I don't know. I want to, but I'm not sure that I knew him well enough to do him credit. I mean, we had a good relationship, and he was really good at his job. But I know nothing about his personal life. That's why I was so hesitant to…" her voice trailed off.

"Nadia, I'm sorry about what I said back at CTU about you and Milo," he said suddenly.

She looked up at him, trying to remember what he had said, it all seemed so long ago.

"I don't even remember; what was it?"

He sighed. She was not going to make this easy. "You know, what I said about you deciding whether or not to sleep with him."

"Oh that." She paused, going over some of their conversations that day. "You were right. I was letting my indecision about him cloud my judgment over what to do. You were just doing your job, and you had reason to believe that both of us were moles. You were wrong, but so was I, more than once that day. If you can forgive me for not listening to you and Jack, I can forgive you for the Milo comment and the interrogation thing."

He winced, thinking back on how rough he had been with her. "Okay, we'll call ourselves even, how's that sound?"

"Sounds good. You dropped a fry."

He stopped, patting the blankets for his missing munchie. He frowned when he couldn't find it. He heard Nadia shift her position just before a hand slipped underneath his thigh, making him jump a little at the contact.

"Got it," she said triumphantly.

He held out his hand palm up, and instead heard a soft crunch across from him, followed by a "yum" sound.

"Hey. That was my lunch," he complained, chuckling at her. He had never seen her so playful before. At work she was all business, they all were. Sure, his sarcastic nature shone through in their dialog, but he was always deadly serious. She always tended to worry about everything, and although she never panicked, she was easily upset. Even her attitude since she had arrived in his room had fluctuated drastically in the few minutes she had been there. She had gone from teasing, to guilty, to accepting, to sad, and back to teasing. But seeing this new side of her was…refreshing. He could hear her smile in her voice, and tried to imagine what it looked like. He had never seen her smile. He probably never would now. He pushed those dark thoughts out of his mind and decided to enjoy them moment. He could hear her sucking up the last of her soda, and sensed she was looking at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Hmm? How'd you know I was looking at you?"

"Lucky guess," he said dryly, but with a smirk.

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Your hair looks good like that."

He could hear the underlying taunt in her voice, and knew she was gently mocking him. She knew all too well that he didn't fix his hair that morning and she was letting him know it was an improvement. It was all he could do not to finger comb it back down across his forehead.

"Yeah, Hannah thinks so too," he said finally.

"Hannah?"

Nadia's mind conjured up a picture of some young ditsy blonde girl, fresh out of nursing school and all to happy to fuss over an injured federal agent. Like the little slut even knew what being an agent entailed. She probably didn't even know what a Counterterrorist Unit was.

"Yeah, she the senior nurse on this floor. Her son is the reverend at Calvary Baptist on the West side," he offered.

All of Nadia's mental images crashed down around her and she blushed red at her unwarranted jealousy.

"Oh," was all she could manage.

For once, she was grateful he couldn't see her. She surprised herself that she had acted that way. She usually was not the jealous type. Besides, she had no reason to be envious. I mean, this was Mike we're talking about. It wasn't like she was in love with him or anything. He was just a friend that had shared some tough times with her. Besides, they had just met less than four days ago. What was she thinking?

"So," she began, anxious to change the subject. "How long do you have to stay here?"

"They said I'm free to leave in a few days. They have to do some follow-up testing on my eyes to make sure they're healing properly. The surgery went really well though, and the doc says that there is a slight chance that my left eye will improve."

"That's good," she said hopefully. If he got the sight back in one of his eyes, he might be able to come back to work and coordinate ops from the floor.

"Yeah, it's a long shot, but ya never know."

"Where will you go after you leave the hospital?"

"That's where it gets tricky. Division does not know quite what to do with me until we can figure out what's going on with that other eye. They're giving me quite a lot of grace on this, since it was a field injury, so I have some time to figure out where I'm headed next. In the meantime, I'm supposed to get into some sort of assisted living program."

Nadia could hear the distaste in his voice as he spat out the last sentence. She felt a fresh wave of pity for him. His career and his pride had been stripped away from him all at once. She couldn't even imagine how that must feel.

He continued, "They want me to get an apartment and live with a full time assistant. She's supposed to cook for me and change my dressings or whatever else I need. I don't understand why I can't just get an apartment and live alone. I don't need a babysitter."

"Yeah, but Mike," she began carefully. "It would be hard to be all alone. I mean, what are you gonna do, order take-out every night?"

"I'll figure out something," he said firmly.

Nadia thought long and hard. She couldn't believe she was even entertaining the ideas that were going through her head. She made a "hmm" sound before speaking again.

"Does it have to be a professional assistant?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, like you said, you don't need someone to baby-sit you twenty-four seven, you just need food and someone to take care of immediate needs. Is there anything medical involved?"

"No," he said hesitantly. _What is she driving at? She got that I-have-an-idea tone of voice. _"I don't think so. If I still have my wrappings on by the time I get an apartment, then there's that. But that's not hard too do, and those should be coming off within the week. Why?" he finally asked.

"Well," she began. She couldn't believe she was even about to suggest this. Maybe she still felt guilty over her hand in what happened to him. "I was just thinking that, you know, maybe they'd let you move in with me for the time being. I've got an extra guest room that is just going to waste. Just until you get your feet under you," she hastily added. There, she said it.

Mike was silent for a long time. Nadia studied his features carefully for his reaction. She was beginning to think that he hated the idea and was searching for a polite way to tell her she was nuts. He turned toward her suddenly, a small grin gracing his face.

"You know…it _could_ work. I don't see how there could be a problem with it. I mean, I really don't need much, just food and a place to stay really." His face suddenly became serious. "You're sure about this, Nadia? I mean, I don't want you to do this because you feel guilty."

How did he do that…know exactly what she was thinking? Still, a part of her protested that she wasn't doing this out of guilt or pity, that she really did want him to be there with her. She told him as much. He listened intently, as if trying to determine whether or not she was lying. Finally seeming satisfied, he nodded, crumpling his cheeseburger wrapping paper and putting it in the French fry box. Nadia helped him clean up the tray; then pushed it off to the side again. She sat there, cross-legged, facing him, not sure what to do next. She suddenly had the urge to hug him again, the way that she had two days ago. She shrugged off the feeling, and cleared her throat awkwardly. Mike shook his head as if to shake himself out of his reverie.

"I'll talk to the hospital doctors and see if there's anything that I need to fill out before you can come stay with me," she offered.

Mike fought the urge to grin as she said that. He couldn't believe that she had actually offered to let him live with her, even if it was temporary. That meant a lot to him.

"That sounds good."

"Well, I should probably get going. I have some errands to run today, and I should get to them before it gets too much later."

"Yeah," he said, fighting a twinge of regret as she got up to leave. _Mike, you're going to move in with her, for crying out loud. You'll probably be grateful for those errands before too long. _Still, he didn't want her to leave just yet. _Oh well, you can't always get what you want. _

He heard her make her way to the door.

"Nadia..."

"Yeah Mike?"

_Yeah stupid, probably should have thought of something to say __before__ you called her. Maybe if she stays there long enough she'll feel guilty and come back to hug me. Yeah, this is getting awkward. _"Thanks," he finished. _Lame, but it works in a jam._

"No problem. Hey, what are you doing tomorrow, say about the same time?" she asked.

"Uh, what do ya think?" he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"How to you feel about Arby's?" she asked, the grin evident in her voice.

"Beef N' Cheddar with curly fries?" he asked hopefully.

"You got it. Seeya tomorrow."

"Yeah. Seeya."

He listened until her footsteps disappeared down the hall, smiling to himself. Feeling a wave of fatigue, joyfulness, and content at the same time, he snuggled down into his covers for a long nap…with really nice dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so I think I'm beginning to get the hang of this. I really have no idea how these two would act outside of work, so I'm kind of making it up as I go. I went over a few earlier episodes today, trying to get a feel for their earlier interactions and I think that helped. Let me know if I'm getting too OOC with them though…that's my biggest fear. **

**I'm relying on you guys to keep me on the straight and narrow. So far, you have all been an invaluable help to me. Thank you all so much, and special thanks to Jenn – I really appreciate your long reviews and honesty. Thanks again guys. Love to all!  
**

* * *

Mike Doyle breathed in a breath of fresh air, the first he'd had after what seemed like ages. Warm sunshine bathed his face in its radiance, though only his left eye could pick up the reddish hues that shone through his eyelids. The light didn't hurt his eye per se, but it felt…weird. He still had his other eye, which the doctors had not removed although it was blind. He tended to keep his eyes closed during the day, but in the evenings, he would open both of them, he wasn't sure why. His attention was drawn back to the task at hand. He was finally free of the hospital, and making his way to Nadia's SUV. And then there was the stairs. These could be a problem. He had taken elevators up until this point, and this was his first blind steps experience. Nadia was at his side with her arm slipped under his, talking him through it.

"The steps are long, so I'll tell you before you get to the edge."

He nodded his acknowledgment. He paid attention to the amount of steps he took before reaching the edge, and by the time he was at the bottom, he had mastered it.

"You'll be thankful to know that my apartment is on the first floor," she said with a laugh.

"So whatever chance of exercise I might have had is now gone."

"Don't worry about it; I'm sure you'll find something to do. My car's just up the street."

"What do you drive?"

"An '03 Escalade. Why?"

"Just wondering. Cadillac huh?"

"What's wrong for Cadillacs?" she asked curiously.

"Nothing's wrong with them. Nice cars."

"What, did you expect me to drive a foreign car?"

Mike was startled by the defensive tone her voice had taken. She hadn't done that in a long time to him.

"No. Actually I was thinking more along the lines of a Blazer," he said with a grin.

"Well, yeah, you're right," she conceded, her voice softening. "Here we are."

She mentally chided herself for being so touchy about the car. _I guess I'm still a little sore about the racial profiling thing, but that was uncalled for. _She took a tighter grip on his arm, steering him toward the curb. He heard a click-beep noise, followed by a heavy door opening. He felt for the step, climbing into the seat without incident. She slammed the door shut and walked around the front of the SUV. He was already buckled when she got in.

"Good," she said with approval.

"I'm trying to get into the habit of putting them on again."

"Yeah, so am I. We just got you out of the hospital, and I don't want to see you as a projectile."

"That's good of you," he said sarcastically.

She started up the car and pulled away. Mike leaned his head back against the leather seats, reflecting on the last few days. Nadia had been really great. She came every day during her lunch break, bringing him his favorite fast food. She would stay as long as she could, seeming to stretch the time more and more every visit. They had talked about everything under the sun, from family, to houses they had lived in, to pets, to their first crushes. He had gotten to understand her much more in the last few days, knowing now how her past had helped shape who she was now. Her childhood had not been easy, and being uprooted from her Middle Eastern home had taken its toll on her life. But she had adjusted well, a trait which he had come to admire in her.

His first few days at the hospital had been very different for him. The permanence of his situation had not quite sunk in, and sometimes it still felt as though this was a bad dream that he would wake up from. He had acted strangely in the beginning, almost lighthearted, which wasn't like him. He blamed the drugs. Of course, it also could have been a subconscious attempt to shield his psyche from the trauma of losing his eyesight and his job in one fell swoop…but he liked the drug excuse better. Either way, time and a sudden cessation of medication soon brought him back to reality: he was blind and he would never enter the field again. That feeling of resignation had begun to grow over the last few days, starting in the back of his mind and expanding to take over his focus. He tried to beat it down, but it was pervasive. The nights were the worst. He would lay awake for hours, contemplated what he had done over his life, and what he could never do again. The pain grew with each day, and he didn't know how to cope with the feeling. His temper had grown shorter recently, and he was sorry to admit that Hannah and the docs had bared the brunt of it. He had made sure to apologize to Hannah for every nasty thing he had said before he left. She had merely pulled him into a bear hug, telling him that all was forgiven and she understood. He sure would miss her.

Through it all though, Nadia had been his savior. Go figure. He looked forward to her visits every day…it was what kept him going. Something about the way she spoke and what they spoke about soothed him. He could find a distraction in getting to know her better, and trying to figure her out had given him something to think about other than his own miserable situation. She was the only thing standing between him and wallowing in self-pity.

"Do you want your sunglasses?" Nadia's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Hmm?" he asked distractedly.

"Sunglasses…"

"Oh, yeah, sure," he replied as she placed the object into his palm. He put them on, turning once again to face out the window.

"You okay?" she asked. "You're more quiet than usual. Something wrong?"

"No, just thinking. How much further to your apartment?" he asked, making a conscious decision to be less brooding in front of Nadia.

"We're here."

He felt the car pull into a lot and quickly park.

"Home sweet home," Nadia stated as she got out of the car.

The door next to him opened as he fiddled to find the seatbelt. _I didn't have any troubles buckling it in the first place. _

"Here."

He stiffened a little as she reached across his lap and found the clip. _Awkward…_

"Thanks," he mumbled, climbing down out of the big SUV.

He followed her to the back, waiting for her to open the door. He had one suitcase and a duffle in his possession. She hefted them both out of the back, grunting a little at the weight of the suitcase.

"Here, let me carry the big one."

"Are you sure?"

He shot a look in her direction that stopped any further protest. Nadia sighed as she handed the big suitcase to him. He could be so stubborn sometimes. _Irish men... _She grabbed the duffle; then took his arm, guiding him toward the entrance.

"Watch your step here," she warned.

"When?"

"Now!"

Too late. Mike stumbled on the front step, cursing under his breath. Nadia caught his arm, leaning back to counter his weight. He stood up straight, stepping onto the stair with the suitcase.

"Sorry," she offered sheepishly.

"Yeah, we're gonna have to work on our timing a little," he said with a snort.

For a second Nadia thought he was angry at her. She hesitated to follow him up, waiting for him to say something.

"We going to stand out here in front of your apartment all day, or do you have a doorframe you want to run me into?" he asked cynically.

"Yeah, yeah, smart aleck, c'mon," she said, smacking his arm before leading him up to the door.

She led him through the double doors and down the hall a little way. The smell of hotel carpets on a hot day filled the air, but other than that, the place seemed pleasant.

"My door is the fourth on the right," she commented as they came to the entrance. She let go of his arm to unlock the door, then led him into the little entryway of her home. She took the suitcase from him, wheeling it off to the side out of their way.

"So, ya want a quick tour before you get settled in?"

"Yeah," he answered tiredly.

"Okay, over here on the left is the kitchen," she said as she led him into said room. "Here's the fridge and the stove is over here – which you better keep your hands off of – and the sink is right here next to it. These cabinets have cereal, and this little pantry has most of the canned stuff. Top shelf has chips and junk food."

"Mmm, yay," he commented dryly. _Less exercise, less junk food. This sucks._

"Okay, now let's go back to the entrance again. Straight through here is the living room. Couch. Recliner. TV. Do you have your bearings?"

"Yeah, we're good."

"Okay, now come down this hall. This room on the right is yours, I'll take you inside in a second. This room on the left is the bathroom. Here's the sink, toilet's straight ahead and here's the shower. Got it? Okay, back into the hall. The end room here is mine. The bed is back center and there's a TV on the dresser. If you want to come in here to watc—" she mentally kicked herself. Why did she always do that?

"Why would I come in here if there's a TV in the living room?" he asked suspiciously.

"Um, the living room is on the sunny side of the place and tends to heat up on warm days. The AC in my room is better than in there," she said awkwardly.

He was right, that sounded suggestive. Of course, him _living _with her was suggestive in itself. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel uneasy. This was certainly going to take some getting used to.

"Um, okay."

"You want to see your room now?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," the fatigue once again creeping into his voice.

"You sound like you're pretty tired."

"I am."

"Okay, come down here."

She led him down the hall, steering him into his bedroom. She took him to the bed, showing him where the rest of the furniture was. He sank down on the end of his bed, letting his head fall into his hands. He hadn't expected to be so tired after the move from the hospital. And he hadn't even started unpacking yet. He felt Nadia sit down on the bed next to him.

"You okay?" she asked.

She reached over to put a hand on his shoulder, hesitating briefly. Finally, she let her hand rest near the back of his neck, casually rubbing at the taught muscles.

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

"Why don't you get some rest, and we can finish the fine details of the house later. We can get you unpacked too."

"Yeah, thanks."

She started to get up to leave, but then his cell phone rang. With an exasperated sigh, he pulled it out of his pocket. He went to open it, then paused.

"Would you see who it is?" he asked, stifling a yawn as he handed her the phone.

She took it, glancing at the display, "Margaret?" wondering why that name sounded familiar.

He held his hand out to her, growling in the back of his throat as he took the phone back, opening it with an irritated snap.

"What?" he asked, his voice betraying his obvious dislike of the person on the other line.

Nadia could not hear what 'Margaret' was saying back to him, but the garbled voice sounded annoyed.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for asking," he said coldly.

He reached up to rub the bridge of his nose out of habit, careful not to disturb the still healing cuts underneath his eyes. Nadia felt incredibly awkward standing there, but she didn't want to leave him alone just yet. Suddenly it dawned on her who he was talking to. Mike had told her a few days ago that he was divorced. He hadn't offered a lot of information, merely saying that it hadn't worked out with him and_ Margaret _– him being a federal agent and all – and then he changed the subject. Nadia could relate to him with that. It was always hard to maintain a relationship with people outside of work because they had a hard time relating. She knew this from experience. Her discomfort increased now that she knew who it was.

"No, I'm living with a coworker until I can get my feet under me. Yes, she's a woman, not that it concerns you."

His face suddenly turned a livid shade of red. "No, we're not," he bit out.

Nadia shifted, guessing what his ex had just asked, now more uncomfortable than ever.

"Where is Emily?" he asked suddenly. "Yeah, okay. Do me a favor, call me when she gets home, okay? Okay?!" he asked, with a little more force. "Fine. Yeah. Bye."

He snapped the phone shut, slamming it on the bed next to him. He hung his head, his patience thoroughly exhausted. Suddenly he looked in her direction, his face softening considerably.

"Sorry," he said with a sigh. "I'm sure that was awkward for you."

Nadia swallowed nervously. "It's okay."

"Alright, now I'm really going to go to bed now," he said, yawning widely.

Nadia stepped forward and pulled the covers down for him, stacking the decorative pillows on the other side of the bed. She watched him pull off his shoes, placing them neatly beside the bed where he could find them easily. He scooted up to the top of the bed, sliding under the sheets and plopping his head down heavily. Nadia reached over and pulled the blankets over him, a foreign maternal instinct guiding her actions. She watched as a small smirk pulled at his lips. He turned to her, eyes still closed.

"Are you going to tuck me in and kiss my forehead too?" he asked, with less sarcasm in his voice than she would have expected.

He sounded so tired, and something else…resignation maybe?

"Yep," she said with a soft laugh. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."

She pulled the covers a little tighter over him, then reached down and brushed a few stray locks of hair from his forehead. This time, he didn't flinch at the contact, and almost seemed to enjoy it. She brushed her lips against his forehead, careful to avoid the cuts.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

Mike listened as she gently closed the door behind her. A tumult of emotions bombarded his exhausted mind. He wanted her comfort; _needed _her comfort, and he never needed anything from anyone. He had just let her tuck him in for crying out loud! What was wrong with him? He always hated being coddled, and yet he tolerated so much more from her than he did from anyone else. He knew full well that she felt unsure of herself, and that she was probably even questioning her decision to let him stay with her. Being able to mother him a little bit was probably making her feel better. But he _hated _that feeling of indulgence. He was a loner. He didn't need anyone looking after him. But that was before. Now he really did need her. But letting her do what she was doing, like the whole tucking-in thing, was the same as letting himself appear weak. Which was not like him at all. He was _never _weak. But still, he didn't really think that Nadia thought of him as being helpless. Maybe that was why gave her more leeway. Or maybe, he was willing to put up with a little pampering if it meant that she was going to kiss him like she just had. He smirked to himself; that sounded like an acceptable justification for his lack of protest. He touched his forehead where her lips had just been, feeling a slight flutter in his stomach. _Okay this is just ridiculous, Mike! Now you're getting the warm fuzzies. To hell with this, I'm going to bed!  
_

* * *

Nadia busied herself putting together an easy dinner and listening to a soothing Enya CD. She felt like rice and chicken, and she recalled Mike saying that there was just about no meal in the cosmos that he wouldn't eat. This was good, because cooking was not her forte. She usually ate on the go, and the few times that she did eat at home were usually readymade meals or Raman soup.

She sighed deeply, thinking back on the events of the last few days as she spiced up her rice. She tried not to think too much about the events of that first day she met Mike. Too many painful memories were attached to it. Yet, even so, she couldn't help but be awed by the fact that she had gone from hating his guts to seeking his affirmation and comfort in a period of about twelve hours. When he first showed up, she let his reputation color her entire reaction to him. And his attitude upon arrival only encouraged her suspicions. Suffice it to say, he did not make a good first impression. He had come in, barking orders to anyone and anything, and not giving a crap what other people thought of him. But that was who he was: cold, ruthless, and completely consumed by his job. She shuddered as she remembered the cruel way he had interrogated her, absentmindedly rubbing her throat as she recalled the memory. But as she ran over it in her head again, she remembered something that had not stuck with her before. When he had first walked into the room, he had pulled a chair in front of her, calmly telling her that he would do whatever it took to get the answers he needed. She recalled the look in his eyes – he was pleading with her to give up the information that he thought she had. She had spat back a nasty comment about him. He had lowered his head, and when he raised it again, the pleading look was replaced by dark cold eyes. That was when he grabbed her throat. Before, she could only remember the coldness in his eyes, but now, that look of desperation was more vivid to her. She saw that expression many more times that day – when he told her that he was still looking for his answers to life; when she told him Milo had died; even when he lay there in the infirmary. It was those eyes, or rather the truth behind them, that had made her change her mind about him. That's when he became Mike to her. Doyle was cold, calculating, and dangerous, but Mike…Mike was a man of integrity, a man of honor. It was Mike that she was attracted to.

She felt as if she had begun to understand him in those few hours. Yes, he was a hard ass, but his job had made him that way. When she thought about it, Jack was the same way. They were both consumed by their sense of duty, and they were willing to do _anything _to protect their country. They were willing to sacrifice their humanity and let themselves become calloused in order to shield the people they cared for. It was a horrible sacrifice to make, but CTU could not function without men like Mike and Jack. She finally understood that now.

"Hey."

Nadia jumped, her hand brushing against the hot pan that held her rice. She let out a sharp hiss of pain, rubbing her hand instinctively. She had not heard him emerge from the room because of the CD in the background. Silently cursing Enya, she turned back to face Mike. He had heard her hiss, but had no idea what happened.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched in his face and voice. He slowly walked into the open room, trying to remember how many steps it was to the counter.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, reaching out to guide him closer.

He held on to her arm when she let go of him, his hands sliding to catch both her wrists.

"What happened?"

Nadia knew he wouldn't let go of her until she gave him a straight answer, so she decided to downplay.

"Oh, I just had a clumsy moment and touched my hand to a hot pan, no big deal," she said lightly.

Her hand was beginning to throb and she could tell from Mike's look he wasn't buying her little excuse. She shivered a little as his hands slid down her wrists and he let his fingers gently stroke the back of her hands. She flinched as the rough pads of his thumbs rubbed against the tender skin on her burn. He stopped, now certain that it was worse than she had let on.

"Go get a burn kit," he ordered, the "Doyle" back in his voice.

"Mike…" she ventured.

"Now."

Okay, that was not a tone one argued with. She complied, disappearing briefly into the bathroom to get the First Aid Kit. He was leaning patiently against the counter when she returned. She opened the kit at the table, applying some salve and a bandage to her injury as he silently "observed" her. Finally satisfied that all had been righted, he made his way across the floor and sat down at the table.

"Smells good," he commented.

"Thanks – rice and chicken. You like that, right?"

"Yeah. I'll eat anything, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, I forgot. But being willing to eat anything doesn't mean that you like it."

"True, but I like most of what I eat, which is everything."

Satisfied that cooking for this man was going to be a breeze, Nadia began setting the table. _I think that I can get used to this. I mean, he's so low maintenance, I'll hardly know he's here. _Filled with confidence once again, she put out the food and sat down to their quiet dinner.

They talked long into the night, sharing childhood stories. Mike liked this; it reminded him their conversations back at the hospital. Nadia was happy because for the first time in a long time, she felt like she had a friend. Not just a coworker, but someone she could really talk to and share personal things with. She trusted him implicitly, and something about him made her feel unashamed to bare her true feelings to him. She wasn't afraid to not have all the answers with Mike. He didn't expect anything from her, and she had no reason to put on a show for him. He saw through all that anyway.

They both finally went to bed a little after midnight. But both of them stayed awake long into the night, sorting through the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm them. Still, they both finally shut their eyes with a contended feeling, just knowing that the other was just down the hall.


End file.
